Gods and Monsters
by DittyWrites
Summary: Falsely accused of attempted murder, Selina Kyle must find a way to escape to the surface and bring justice to those who deserve it. However, with the majority of the population under the control of the man who wants her dead and the rest driven insane by their addiction to ADAM, she will need every single skill she possesses in order to survive. (Bioshock AU)


As she entered the room of her safe house, Selina was surprised to note that everything was still exactly as it had been before she left the previous night. Her discarded pieces of clothing were littered across the bed, the dingy light bulb which hung bare from the centre of the ceiling casting light on the chaos of the room, and her eyes narrowed into a squint as her gaze darted around the various objects she had stashed in the small space.

It struck her as odd how certain things could remain untouched while everything else was irrevocably changed.

Knowing that she was not likely to ever see this room again, she took a moment to place herself on the edge of the bed. Her main apartment had been useful in helping her to keep up appearances but this space had become her home. An area where she could be alone with her thoughts and allow her true self to flourish. An absurd welling of grief rose in her chest, the surprise of it taking away her breath, and she fought to keep control, blinking away the tears which stung her eyes as the events of the last day caught up with her.

Instinctively, wiping a hand to her dry cheek, she kicked off the dark, heeled shoes which were causing her feet to ache uncomfortably and brought her left foot to sit atop her knee as she kneaded the flesh with the knuckles of her opposing hand. The small relief was needed and it gave a little comfort so she repeated the process with the other foot.

The occasional hint of pink crept through the torn curtains as the neon sign advertising the plasmid clinic which faced the hotel flashed its wares. As she had passed, the temptation to break in and steal some extra reserves of ADAM was appealing to her but the risk was too great.

In the corner of the room, the radio was murmuring away quietly and, releasing her foot, she leaned across the bed in order to reach it. Turning the brass volume dial up a few notches she kept her arm outstretched as she listened to the news:

"-rmed and incredibly dangerous. While Wayne is expected to live, some of his staff were not as fortunate and died on-scene. Kyle has no know associates and anyone who encounters her is encouraged to contact their nearest emergency point to alert Wayne Security. It is reported that she is likely to kill again. To recap, earlier this eve-

Groaning, Selina flicked it off and rolled back to her original position.

Her apartment would be lost to her by now. Waynes' men would be combing over every inch of it in an attempt to track down her current whereabouts. This safe house had been paid for with cash under a false name and it only took a small wink and a few kind words for the building owner to have all trace of her removed from the log-in books.

As far as anyone knew, she did not exist here.

The wall which opposed her bed was covered with various clippings and scraps of informations which she had been able to pull together throughout her years of investigating. The small pieces of string which brought together each link and clipping were seared into her mind.

Ten years she had lived in this city. Ten years since she last saw the sun. She had been enticed by the lure of money and fooled by the promise of an adventure beyond her wildest dreams.

It had seemed silly to refuse. Approached on behalf of a living legend and offered a job, an opportunity to provide her 'services' at a city which should not exist.

Gotham City.

Freshly constructed at the behest of Bruce Wayne and found at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean in a location which would only be provided to the brightest and most promising members of society. Those with a criminal record were immediately denied access and the invitation and screening process was intense. It was supposed to be a paradise. Hidden away from the surface and kept free of crime and despair.

But even paradise needed whores, she thought bitterly.

Working in Metropolis had suited her for a long time, she made a decent enough living from her trade and she had loved the city itself but the good times hadn't lasted forever. As things got hard, crime started to grow and when crime soars, sex workers were always the first to suffer. She had been safe enough, having taught herself to fight at a young age and developed her skills as she grew, but others were not so lucky and there was only so much help she could offer.

The promise of a new city had been too tempting and she had accepted on one condition, that she be allowed to take a companion. It was not a common request and she had been forced to answer a lot of question but they had relented and agreed.

But Gotham had changed in ten years.

She had changed.

Her elegant black dress was now marred with filth and a small patch of almost-dried blood shone against the matt fabric. Pulling the dress over her head, she allowed it to fall to the floor, shivering as the cool air hit her skin, and the movement caused the injury to her chest to throb unpleasantly. Taking a deep breath she ghosted her hand across the small slash mark which was just peeking out from the lace of her bra and winced as it stung with the contact.

Robotically reaching in to the middle drawer of the dresser which sat beside the bed, she pulled a basic first aid kit from within it. Extracting the bottle of iodine, she twisted a small piece of cloth and dipped it in the liquid before dabbing it to her chest. The fresh stinging caused her to intake sharply but she pushed through it to finish the task and, discarding the cloth, she taped a fresh piece across the wound to prevent it from any future infection.

She was lucky, if she had been a second later at dodging the blade it would have pierced her side and she had no illusions that she would be dead.

One new scar meant nothing but she would carry this one and its significance forever. A reminder. As she worked through the events of the last few hours her hand drifted subconsciously back to her new scar and it sat there as she lost herself.

x-x-x-x-x

Glancing through the various documents, each revelation she encountered created a new element of horror within her as she realised how far-reaching the consequences of her discovery were.

Everything about Gotham was a lie.

Tearing her eyes away from the paper, she turned towards the bedroom door and the danger which she now knew lurked behind it. By her estimations, she had around twenty minutes before he finished showering and emerged to find her gone.

There were too many papers for her to take without being instantly noticed so she would have to make do with what little she could stash on her person. The dress was not suited for such a task but a few folded sheets could be tucked against her sides without altering her shape too much.

The faint smell of his cologne was clinging to her and it turned her stomach. Scrunching her nose against it, she started to quickly fold the most incriminating documents, her fingers gliding across the paper gracefully.

"Cats and their curiosity," a voice from behind her announced, its tone laced with an odd disciplinary fondness, "you would do well to listen to the old tales."

Whirling around, Selina felt her adrenaline spike as a mixture of rage, disgust and fear set her on an instant edge. Her flight or fight instincts were demanding she take physical action but she needed to hear the truth from his own lips.

Momentarily mourning the absence of her gun, she held her ground.

"You're a monster." She spat.

"A monster?" A smile graced Waynes' handsome face as he approached her, "I made this city into what it is and I have protected her for all these years. From the scum, the criminals, those who would use her for their own evil deeds."

Eyeing up her fallen weapon, Selina subtly tried to inch towards it, "Your empire is built on lies. So everything in these files is true? How many innocents have died so that you can sit here and play king?"

"Make a move for it and I will kill you here and now." Wayne sighed, stepping forward and placing himself closer to the discarded gun, "And everything I have done is for the good of the city. Gotham will live and if I need to sacrifice a few to save many then that is a burden I will bear."

Fresh from the shower, small beads of water ran down his well-defined chest and landed on the dark trousers which he had pulled on before confronting her. Whether he knew of her intentions from the start or this was just bad luck, she did not know, but she could feel the danger in the air.

He continued his speech, "Gotham was to be a paradise and she must live," an almost sad expression crossed his face, "I am truly sorry, Selina, that you cannot live to appreciate that sentiment. You know too much and Gotham needs me to survive."

The glint of the knife as he slid it from the inside of his pocket was all the warning she needed.

Twisting to the side, she felt a burst of pain in her chest as the knife missed its intended target and marked the top of her exposed breast as he lunged for her. Using his own momentum, Selina spun with him and brought her elbow down hard on his back, sending him sprawling the ground harshly with the unexpected movement.

Realising her options were limited, she bolted to the nearby window and glanced out. Within seconds Wayne could have his entire security team here so she had to move fast. The large glass dome which separated this particular part of Gotham from the crushing ocean above was partially exposed through the metal structures which held it in place and she spotted a nearby ledge which she could use to descend.

Checking the small wristband which monitored her use of EVE, she felt a slight burst of panic as it read that she only had enough left for one use of her plasmid. If this failed then she would be at the mercy of her own non-powered abilities. Her black dress was not going to survive the actions and she ripped through the fabric with her hands to free her legs, leaving the scraps on the floor.

Ensuring that her preferred plasmid, Feline Fury, was equipped, she pressed the black button which sat in the centre of the wristband. Immediately, she felt the rush of the plasmid as it entered her bloodstream, increasing her natural abilities to an unnatural level, and she threw herself from the window, expertly latching on to the ledge and scaling down the metal beams with a steady speed.

The wind whipped around her face and the faint sounds of yelling from the penthouse suite she had just evacuated followed her as she descended. They would hunt for her and there was no way of knowing who was in Waynes' pocket and who was not so she needed to be off the streets as soon as possible.

Dropping to the ground, she panted lightly as she slid into the nearby shadows and began her journey to the safe house.

She was alive. For now.

x-x-x-x-x

Collecting herself, she realised that she was baring her teeth at the empty room. Shaking her head to dispel the memory, her eyes were drawn to the small photograph which sat atop the dresser. Picking it up with faintly shaking hands, she gazed at the faded photograph. Her younger self gazed back with a genuine smile as the shorter blonde to her side made a childish face.

Holly.

As she stared at the blonde, she felt the grief of her failure be slowly replaced with a broiling anger which made her breath unsteady. When they had been propositioned with the opportunity to come to Gotham, she had promised to protect the blonde no matter what happened and she had been unable to fulfil that promise.

Six of them had travelled down together. Selina, Holly and four other local girls whom Selina vaguely knew. Holly had not been a prostitute. Just a street kid that she had taken under her wing and what started as a mutually beneficial friendship soon developed into a sisterly love which Selina would not have exchanged for anything in the world.

When she died, Selina had grieved for months before setting out to discover exactly who she could hold responsible and it had taken three years but now she had the truth she needed to hear.

Wayne was responsible.

Her desire to find who had killed Holly had led her to further revelations which could bring Waynes' empire crashing down around him and she wanted nothing now but to see him burn. The only problem was that he owned everything. The police. The court. He even had a private army of ADAM addicts who would follow his command without even blinking.

ADAM.

They may claim that money was the driving force behind the Gotham economy but anyone with half a brain knew that ADAM was the real power behind Gotham. The more ADAM you had, the more power you had. It was that simple.

And Wayne controlled it all.

The sea slugs which created the substance were in no short supply but his full control meant that he could dictate whom in society was deserving of it and the abilities which it could grant. Directly injected into the bloodstream, ADAM could give the user powers based on which genetic coding they had access to, anything from firing pure electricity to creating swarms of attacking insects.

Even after ten years, she was still left in awe of some of its applied uses.

Her own creation, the result of a six-month seduction of one of the leading scientists within the research and development branch of Wayne Enterprises was named Feline Fury. She had destroyed all evidence of its creation and as far as she was aware there was no way to reproduce it without her prolonged help as it had been specifically created for her own genetic code. When activated, it drastically enhanced the amount of adrenaline within her system and gave her almost inhuman levels of flexibility, strength and speed. She had named it as a joke reference to her affinity for cats but also as a personal reminder of her days on the surface, where her skills and talents as a thief led to her whispered street name of Catwoman.

Glancing around the room again, she sighed. Nothing could be accomplished from here. The only solution was to escape to the surface and force the people above to take notice of the crimes which were occurring below. Wayne propaganda would have the residents of Gotham believe that those who lived above were monsters who existed in an uneducated land of crime and hate but Selina knew better.

Wayne would watch as Selina lit the first torch of the mob who would come to destroy him.

Springing into action, she bent to reach underneath the bed and pulled out a small suitcase which she deposited on the bed. Frantically snatching the clothes which were spread around the room, they were soon tossed into the suitcase along with a few other random keepsakes which she wanted to take.

Grabbing the heavily-encrypted radio which she had sworn to use only under dire circumstances, she dialled in a familiar frequency and spoke into it quietly, "If you name me, you break me. What I am?"

The soft crackling of the radio seemed to last an eternity as she waited for a response. If nothing came then he was clearly unwilling to help her and if that was the case then she was finished. There was only so much one person could accomplish in Gotham when everyone wanted their head.

As the moments ticked on, she began to lose hope but just as she was about to return the radio to its holster she heard the tell-tale crackle of an incoming response.

"You are silence." A pleasant voice, its inflections similar to a county showmans', issued from the radio, "It's nice to hear from you Selina. I'm surprised to hear you using the encrypted channel, what mischief are you into now?"

Selina sighed in relief and got straight to business, "Edward," she greeted in a tone filled with false cheer, "how do you feel about helping an old friend out?"

"That depends," he answered immediately, "what do you need from me?"

"I need a way to the surface."

The small gasp was unmistakable and all joviality was replaced with sudden seriousness. No one escaped to the surface. It was a feat yet to be accomplished, "What has happened?"

"They are saying that I attempted to murder Bruce Wayne." She confessed.

There was no response for a full minute before she picked up on a soft sigh, "I will be at your safe house within twenty minutes. Depending on what you tell me I may be willing to help you leave so be ready," he paused, "and I will expect a full explanation."

"You can have it. Thank you, Eddie."

The radio disconnected and in the silence, Selina was again left to her own devices.

However, she did not feel quite as alone as she had only a few minutes before.


End file.
